Hotdogs and Pwnage
by Munchkin25
Summary: A slow day in the squad room with Munch and Fin. Set after a week and half after Philadelphia aired.


Remember the Cragen video story I posted? You'll probably have to read it in order for you to understand this one.

SVU is not mine, but if it were, Benson and Stabler would have been suspended longer, possibly even fired by now...

* * *

Normally, slow days in the squad were like snow coming on the first day of spring. It was rare, but that doesn't mean it can't happen.

And so, one of those days had finally been blessed upon the hard-working two-man squad of Manhattan SVU. And it couldn't be a more perfect day either. Hardly any clouds (unless if smog counted as a cloud) in the sky, just the right amount of wind, sun that was bright, but not too bright, and Cragen had gave everyone working there a piece of licorice.

During the past two and a half weeks, the man had been under a lot of strain. Due to Benson and Stabler's incompetence for disobeying his orders and God knows what else, Munch and Fin became his primaries on every case. Cragen had sent his detectives home when he found out Benson had a brother. IAB took it a step further and suspended them for two weeks, in hopes that they would get their acts straighten up by the time they returned.

So Cragen passing out licorice was a good sign to Munch and Fin and the rest of the people that worked there. It was a sign that they would be seeing less of the vein that bulged out of the side of his bald head every time he was pissed. Less yelling sessions too which meant taking less of Tylenol afterwards.

Fin walked in from the squad room carrying a bag and a tray with two drinks on it. Lunch break. He saw the piece of licorice on his desk.

"Who's Secret Santa?" he quipped as he took the piece of licorice, knowing who it might be.

Munch moved his head to Cragen's office. "Capt'n was feeling the spirit of Christmas again."

Fin shook his head and began to chew his licorice on the side of his mouth, with sticking out like he was smoking a Havana. He passed Munch his food and drink, a hotdog with the works, some fries, and a Pepsi.

"Kosher, I presume?" asked Munch, with a sly grin.

The other day he and Fin had got into this huge argument about Kosher foods that nearly drove not only Fin up a wall, but everyone else in the bullpen too. Since there was no Benson and Stabler to tell them to shut up, Cragen had to do it. The result, as one uniform officer put it, was a sweet, sickening sound of silence. Nice, but eerie.

"Don't you even think about starting that shit up again," Fin said with a slight snarl in his voice, "Do you know how long it would take me to find a stupid, damn, Kosher hotdog in this city?"

"Have you tried Wall Street and the surrounding area? I've heard that they sell them around there," said Munch, silently enjoying the conversation.

"Look man. I ain't going to be driving forty-five minutes for you and your stupid Kosher hotdogs. By the time I got back with it, we wouldn't be able to enjoy our lunch breaks, now would we?"

"But you do know that just regular hotdogs contain parts of…" began Munch, but was cut short by Fin.

"Look Munch. You make me loose my appetite and I won't think twice of shooting you. Can't you see I am trying to bond with my lunch time here?" he snapped.

"But if you shoot me, then there will be blood and guts all over the place. How would you eat your lunch then?"

Fin glared at him.

"Eat your damn hotdog or give me my money back," he said warningly.

Munch shrugged and ate his without any more arguments. He ate one of his fries and cursed silently under his breath. Not enough salt. So he went to the coffee bar area and looked around for the salt shaker. He found it, inspected it, and then shook some over his fries. He took a bite of one and nodded with the result. He downed his fries and then started drinking his Pepsi.

Fin finished his hotdog and downed his drink in no time. He went upstairs to the crib area after throwing away his stuff. Munch followed shortly after, still sipping his Pepsi.

"Don't tell me…" said Munch sighing.

Fin had been trying to beat Stabler's Level 7 game score on Star Fox Assault. Fin had been short a few hundred points, but today was the day where that would all change. He turned on the Gamecube after inserting the game disc and waited for it to load.

"Yes, because I am sick and tired of El saying he is the king of this game. My fucking ass. Time for some serious ass pwnage while he's away so he can't cry about it for the rest of this week until he comes back Monday."

"Let me know when you're done. I shall leave you in peace," said Munch, sounding slightly bored and he went back downstairs.

Munch sat in his desk and read the day's newspaper while hearing funky game sounds from the crib.

"_It's amazing. He can't even pass his marksmen test some of the time, but he can shoot every baddy on one of those games. Unbelieveable!_" he thought, flipping a page.

A shout of "YES!" came from upstairs thirty minutes later and Munch put his paper down on his desk. He walked back up the stairs to find Fin celebrating his victory.

"Try to beat that now, Elliot Stabler! Gold badge, one thousand kills, and I found all the flags hidden in that level!" he said, laughing.

Munch sighed.

"Can I play now?" he said, slightly annoyed at his partner's cheerfulness.

Fin nodded and went over to shut off the game. Munch went over to one of the storage boxes that Cragen had got that Christmas in a hopeless attempt to make his squad room organized and more efficient. It only lasted three days after the holiday.

Munch found the Gameboy Start-Up disc for the Gameboy player attached to the Gamecube and pulled out his game, Mario Kart Advance for the Gameboy Advance.

"You want to talk about some serious ass pwnage?" he said to Fin, "Try me and this game. _No one_, I repeat, _no one_ has beaten my best time scores on this game since we got it. Ever."

"Don't inflate your head now, old man. It's not good at your age. It can give you an aneurism," said Fin.

"Shut up," said Munch, annoyed that Fin didn't believe him, "You really want to see if I can have one? Then fine, I'll show you."

Munch waited for the game to start up and at the title screen, he selected records, then track records. Just like he had said, all the track records had him at the number one spot. His times range from fifteen to forty-five seconds off of the second place score. He then exited it out of that and then entered the Bronze Cup time. Like the track records, he was in the first place spot and the second place had thirty more seconds to his time. He exited out and entered the Silver Cup time records. Munch had cut off a minute from the second place time and Fin was now beginning to feel impressed by the old man's skill. His generation was usually the one who experimented with Atari and NES and everyone else older than him had not even bother to touch a remote of either systems.

Munch entered the Gold Cup records after exiting out of the Silver Cup records.

"Impressed?" he asked.

"I guess," said Fin.

"If you thought that was impressive in the Silver Cup, check the Gold Cup out."

Fin looked at the screen and burst out laughing.

"What's so damn funny?" said Munch, slightly offended.

"You've got eyes, look!" exclaimed Fin through his laughter.

Munch looked on the TV screen and his mouth dropped. Where his initials usually stood at the number one spot, JFK, were now replaced with the initials of DMC.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!!!" exclaimed Munch over Fin's laughter, "WHO THE HELL IS DMC?!!!"

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Hope you have enjoyed this!!! 


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